


Working Hypothesis

by radovanryn



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Forgiveness, Gen, Guilt, Healing, Mentor/Protégé, Moving On, Regret, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radovanryn/pseuds/radovanryn
Summary: [Post-KH3, Even & Lea character study] Even encounters an obstacle on the path to redemption. An obnoxious, redheaded, and only questionably-reformed obstacle.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16
Collections: Kingdom Heals





	Working Hypothesis

The shrill tone of a gummiphone echoed throughout the once-silent laboratory, followed by the sound of shattering glass as the vial Even _had_ been holding slipped out of his fingers. 

“ _Blasted—_ ” Even griped, patting down every pocket of his lab coat as he tried to locate the offending device. He’d begged Ienzo countless times to program in a few less grating tones, but alas, his request had been hopelessly shelved until Ienzo managed to locate Sora in the young Princess of Heart’s sleeping memories.

Finally, Even found his gummiphone. The screen blinked with a new message from Dilan, alerting him that his “newest test subject,” as Dilan put it, had arrived and was waiting for him at the front gates. Even grimaced as he skimmed over those particular words—

_test subject_

—and ignored the guilt that soured his empty stomach. If luck were on his side, he’d soon be rid of that infernal pang of despair weighing on his conscience. Mindless of the broken glass that littered the floor, Even rushed out to greet his test sub— _participant._ His _research participant._

Although _Vexen_ had betrayed Xehanort, since his completion four months earlier Even had concluded that those actions were more attributable to _Saïx_ —now Isa—than himself. He’d not yet earned his redemption for himself. The weight on his shoulders became heavier with each passing day as Even agonized over how to apply his talents to any number of their present concerns. However, it had been made quite apparent that there was little need for him, what with Ienzo leading the effort to uncover Sora’s whereabouts and Aeleus and Dilan pairing off to locate Demyx, who had gone missing after the final battle. Master Ansem was an option, but Even was not desperate enough to beg guidance from his one-time mentor. 

Then, at last, inspiration struck. If he could replicate key- _bearers_ , then what if he could also duplicate the key- _blade_ —or rather, its transdimensional capabilities? Between his previous work on the replicas and his... _firsthand experience_ creating and sustaining the Dark Corridors, Even was confident he could reproduce the same effect and, perhaps, open a portal between realities to retrieve Sora once he’d been found. 

First, he’d need a keybearer to open a gateway so that he could collect measurements and begin the simulation process. Rather surprisingly, Ansem had volunteered to handle the recruitment effort, and in less than a day had persuaded one of them (Even had no idea who) to agree. Yet, as Even strode into the entrance hall, he felt his heart sink. Standing there beside Dilan and grinning like a damned _miscreant_ , stood Ax— _Lea_. 

The scientist scowled. What madness had possessed Ansem to persuade _him_ to assist Even with his experiment?

If Lea noticed Even’s obvious disappointment, he didn’t show it. Instead he waved Dilan off and confidently strutted toward the blonde. “Yo, Even.” Damn him, even his _voice_ was infuriatingly cocky. “It’s been awhile.”

“Save me your insincere platitudes,” Even curtly replied, “and tell me, what is the meaning of this? I made my request quite clear.”

“Yeah, you did,” Lea agreed. “One keyblade wielder, at your service. Just like old times, huh?”

Even glared at the lanky redhead. His redemption was hanging in the balance, and now the cruel fates had saddled him with his _assailant_? And yet, even in his ire Even was an objectivist. Lea appeared wan and gaunt, with deep shadows beneath his eyes. Even looked away; it was too much like peering into his own reflection.

If A— _Lea_ was haunted by his own crimes, then that was his burden to bear. Even would have no part of it. 

Feigning a haughty tone, Even said, “As usual, I shall have to make do.” He turned on his heel and began the trek back towards his laboratory. Lea followed, close enough that he was barely visible out of the corner of Even’s eye. Already on-edge, Even was practically grinding his teeth by the time they reentered the lab.

“Looks like someone had a party,” Lea dryly remarked as he took in the shards that were scattered across the floor. “What, you didn’t invite me? I’m insulted, Even, really.”

“If you have nothing useful to say, then I implore you to remain silent.” Even barely noticed the mess. His thoughts were racing. After all, what did it matter _which_ keybearer he studied? So long as Lea managed to open a gateway, his experiment— _his atonement_ —could proceed.

Minutes passed. Even gathered supplies and instruments while Lea aimlessly wandered the cluttered space, humming quietly. The noise grated on Even’s frayed nerves even more than that blasted gummiphone. Worse, it reminded Even of the time before Xehanort, when he regularly worked alongside his peers. Even refused to admit, even to himself, how much he missed the simple camaraderie. 

Perhaps once he had atoned—

“It wasn’t anything personal, y’know.”

For the second time that hour, Even broke another vial. Its contents sizzled as they spread across the already-dirtied floor. To Even, it sounded far too much like fire crackling. “I beg your pardon?” he asked waspishly.

Lea was standing in a nearby corner with his back to the wall, staring at the spilled potion. “What happened at Castle Oblivion… It wasn’t personal,” he replied. “I, I mean _Axel_ was just following orders.” As Lea spoke, Even could feel the phantom flicker of flames as he was _engulfed_ by heat and darkness. When he closed his eyes, he swore that he could still smell the smoke. 

“ _Hmph._ ” Even felt indignation, and not a trifling amount of fury, swell inside his chest. Surely Lea was not so naïve, _so foolish_ to believe that _Axel’s_ actions were not also his own? “How curious. You were never one to follow orders unless it suited you.”

“Whatever,” Lea scoffed. “Look, I’m sorry. That’s all I was tryin’ to say.” Only a dimwit would have mistaken his tone as one of contrition. Even hands began to shake as his furor built. Lea wasn’t even looking at him; had no one ever taught him that it is _rude_ to not look at someone when you were apologizing to them?

“Indeed. And spoken with _such_ elegance,” Even sneered. Lea grimaced, but Even could not bring himself to care. And why should he, if Lea could not bring himself to offer a genuine apology— not that Even would have forgiven him. “Unless there is something _more_ you would like to add, I’ll ask you to leave,” he said, turning from the younger man and resuming his preparations despite his trembling hands. “You’re distracting me. Return in the morning so that we can begin without further delay.”

Lea snorted dismissively. “Not like I wanted to be here, anyway.” Even kept his back turned and listened to Lea’s retreating footfalls, then the _swoosh_ of the doors as they slid open and closed.

“Of all the—” Even’s voice trailed off as his frustration mounted. Being subjected to such an insincere apology was worse than if Lea had said nothing at all. 

“Why did it have to be _him_?”

* * *

The next morning Even returned to the lab with a migraine and in an irritable mood. To his surprise (and dismay), Lea was waiting for him when he arrived. As far as Even remembered, Axel was notorious for his napping habits and late starts. Alas, it seemed his assumptions were no longer to-date.

“Let’s get this show on the road, huh?” Lea said, not bothering to greet his elder as he shouldered past Even and into the lab.

Even took a deep breath and reminded himself that, unlike his participant, he was a professional. Still, he could not _entirely_ help himself as he remarked, “Strange, is it not? You were never one to show any… _interest_ in any scientific endeavor.”

“What can I say? I’ve grown as a person.” Lea quipped, although Even _sincerely_ doubted that.

Lea held out his hand, and in a blinding flash his keyblade appeared. Even assessed the molten blade critically. To his admittedly-unpracticed eye, the weapon looked unstable. _Temperamental_ , almost.

No matter, Even decided. If his calculations were correct—and they always were—then it would take no more than a few hours to generate and collect the data he needed. Surely a brief period of misery was worth a lifetime of atonement? With a forced bravado, he said, “Very well. Am I a fool to assume that you read the experimental protocols before volunteering yourself?”

Lea rolled his eyes. “I used to be an apprentice too, y’know. ‘Course I read them. You need me to open a keyhole, right? Never done it before, but if Sora figured it out I’m sure I can, too.”

“One can only hope,” Even retorted. He switched on the first device, and once he’d verified that it was taking measurements, tipped his head to Lea. “On my signal, open a portal—”

“Keyhole.”

“ _Keyhole_ , then!” Even felt his migraine intensify, temples pounding. “If it is as simple as you claim, then with luck we’ll have all I need before midday.”

Yet, as it ever was, luck was decidedly _not_ on their side. No matter what Lea tried, his keyblade refused to open a doorway. Vexen’s notes and observations on the original Riku replica were of no use; Lea’s keyblade disappeared on each and every attempt. Worse, Lea was becoming ever more frustrated by his repeated failures, and with each subsequent summoning his keyblade— _Flame Liberator_ , as gaudy a name as Even had ever heard—grew brighter and hotter. It soon forced Even to shed his lab coat; Lea went so far as to shrug out of his top altogether, revealing a massive scar along his right flank. Lea ignored Even’s quirked eyebrow, and even as his own scars ached Even decided against inquiring further. 

It seemed they all still bore the scars of their past lives.

By late afternoon, Even had run out of ideas. It had been _years_ since he’d worked with anyone, and never someone as unpracticed or undisciplined as Lea. “How am I expected to glean anything of use from such a… a _defective_ keyblade?!” he complained when, yet again, Lea’s keyblade burnt itself to ashes. He rubbed his aching temples, distantly aware of how wrung out he felt. Like usual, Even had come down to the labs without breakfast, had skipped lunch, and hadn’t taken so much as a _sip_ of water all day.

Lea, too, looked flushed and unwell. He grit his teeth and recalled Flame Liberator, which now glowed white-hot in his hand. “This look _defective_ to you?” 

“Simply _glancing_ at it risks blindness!” Nothing was proceeding as it should, and as the hours dragged past the memories of Lea’s laughable apology crept to the forefront of Even’s thoughts, stoking his own desperation. Even _needed_ the experiment to proceed, just as he _needed_ Lea to leave—to take his broken conscience and keyblade with him without a backward glance. “If it is not the weapon, then perhaps it is the _wielder_ who is inadequate?”

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?” The temperature climbed as Flame Liberator began to lose its shape, melting glasslike down Lea’s hand and onto the floor. Despite the near-intolerable heat, Lea did not flinch. 

Had Even been thinking clearly, or better still, was working in collaboration with his fellows as he once had, he would have known that it was useless to continue. Experience _should have_ taught him that both men were too frustrated to go on, but Even was stubborn. And in that moment, it was obvious to him what—or rather _who_ —was at fault.

“It means this experiment will fail, all because of an ineffective keyblade and its worthless wielder!” Even snapped, eye twitching with nerves and frustration. “But then, why should I be surprised? Any keyblade that answered _your_ call must surely be broken.”

Glass shattered, but this time it was not Even’s fault. Rather, it was Lea’s keyblade that splintered into dozens of dazzling little pieces before it faded away again. Bitterness crept up his throat as Even warily watched Lea, awaiting his inevitable reaction. Despite the plethora of unresolved issues between them, Even knew that what he had said was uncalled for. Regardless of its questionable… _taste_ , the keyblade _had_ chosen Lea. 

However, rather than the explosive rage Even anticipated, Lea responded with a broken chuckle. “You don’t think I ask myself the same damn thing?” He spoke in a defeated tone, more bitter than Even had ever heard from him. Lea raised his hand as he had done countless times before, but this time Flame Liberator did not reappear in his grip. “Must be a joke, after all,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and left without another word.

Stunned, Even stood alone in the center of the lab as his mind struggled to process what had just happened. There were too many unknowns, and far more variables that Even had failed to account for. Unbidden, the memory of Ansem’s voice rose to the surface, guiding him through the familiar process of deconstruction.

_Did you deviate from your research plan?_ With uncharacteristic humility, Even admitted—if only to himself—that in his quest for redemption he had rushed the proceedings. His knowledge of the keyblade was hypothetical, at best. He should have asked Lea to tell him what he knew about producing keyholes, as well as taken into account Lea’s unique bond with his keyblade. Instead, he’d worked off the assumption that such bonds were one and the same, given that each of his replicas wielded the same weapons as their original selves. 

_Did you encounter any unforeseen obstacles?_ There was no way Even could’ve predicted that Lea would have volunteered himself, nor that he’d subject Even to the least sincere apology he’d ever heard. How could he _possibly_ work with the person who ended his (non)existence? Who had struck him down even as he begged on his knees for reprieve? How could Even hinge his redemption on a man who could not honestly apologize for his own misdeeds? And yet, it was obvious that he and Lea needed to cooperate in order for Even to begin testing his hypothesis.

_How will you proceed?_ Even hadn’t the foggiest idea.

Not knowing what else to do with himself, Even occupied his mind with busywork. He halfheartedly tidied his lab before he was forced to admit that there was little he could accomplish without a keywielder. 

“Even.” His Master’s voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, and with a jolt Even realized that he’d fretted away several hours. The older man stood in the doorway, and gave Even a warm smile. Even struggled to return the gesture. Of course, his ever-observant Master noticed, and with a concerned look remarked, “You seem troubled. Tell me, what is it?”

A peculiar feeling of déjà vu came over Even as he was reminded of his apprenticeship, when he endlessly sought out Ansem’s wisdom. While Even, and later Aeleus, Dilan, and Braig each retained the ‘apprentice’ title, it was purely ceremonial; he had graduated into a Master in his own right ages ago. As such, it felt petty to burden his elder with his troubles. “Thank you, Master, but I assure you that I have the situation well in-hand.”

Ansem regarded Even carefully, and Even found that he could not hold his Master’s gaze. Guilt twisted his empty stomach as he was reminded of how he once betrayed Ansem, years ago, in the same castle. Perhaps he and Lea were not so dissimilar after all. The thought soured him. 

Though it wounded his pride to admit it, Even knew he needed help.

“An experiment I am conducting has reached… an impasse,” Even admitted. Ansem _hummed_ to indicate that he was listening as Even added, “My research participant and I have a rather sordid past, which has only complicated matters. The entire study is hanging by a thread, and I have no clue as to what steps to take.”

“Ah yes, I suspected as much.” Ansem led Even towards the exit. “Fortunately, there is a remedy for this particular woe.”

That _remedy_ , as it happened, was brandy.

As Ansem poured him a generous serving, Even tried to remember the last time he’d indulged in such a manner. It had to have been at least ten years. As though he’d heard his thoughts, Ansem commented, “You know, I believe this bottle may be older than Ienzo. It’s been far too long, Even, since we last sat together and talked as friends and colleagues.”

Even did not react, other than to swirl the cloying liquid in his glass out of nearly-forgotten habit. What could he _possibly_ say? Were it not for him and the other apprentices, none of the woes that had befallen their world would have come to pass. An awkward silence followed as both men idly supped their drinks, each lost to his thoughts.

Then, apropos of nothing, Ansem said, “Was it remiss of me that I encouraged Lea to assist you without first seeking your opinion?”

Even nearly choked on the mouthful he’d just taken, eyes watering as he struggled to swallow. “W-what do you, _aheh,_ mean you en… _encouraged_ him?” he asked, spluttering.

He might’ve known that Dilan had gossiped with the others about his latest ‘test subject,’ but Even would have never suspected Ansem’s meddling. True, Ansem had volunteered to recruit a keybearer on his behalf, but Even assumed that the older man had first asked Roxas or Xion, and Lea—obstinate man that he was—had insisted that he participate instead. For what reason, Even couldn’t begin to guess.

“You have been isolating yourself, Even. Besides myself, have you asked any of the others to assist you with this experiment?”

Despite his kind tone, Even was absolutely appalled by Ansem’s presumptuousness. “My social calendar notwithstanding, I fail to see how imposing that… that _cretin_ upon me solves anything!”

Bemused, Ansem replied, “Lea is driven, but lacks direction and discipline. Furthermore, he was once an apprentice, however I can no longer in good conscience mentor him. And yet he needs someone to guide him, and I suspect you, Even, are the best candidate for that role.”

“He ended my existence!” The words lingered in the air, impossible to take back. Ansem flinched, but he did not avert his gaze, not even when Even sharply added, “He reduced me to _nothingness,_ and even now he lacks the basic _decency_ to apologize. And that— _that_ is the man you expect me to advise? _My executioner?!_ ”

“Even.” Ansem set down his half-empty glass. When he spoke, his tone was graver than Even had ever heard it. “I cannot, and will not, presume to understand the horrors of that existence, such that it was. Nor will I excuse what Lea did, and the pain he caused you.

“And yet, I know betrayal, and what it does to a man. For ten years I allowed my anger, my _hatred_ to consume me. It made me cruel, Even, and in my cruelty I lost sight of the man I once was.”

Even gaped, stunned silent as Ansem continued, “I did terrible things, _unspeakable_ , all for the sake of vengeance. It was not until my second banishment that I understood the depths of my sins, and moreover, what redemption would entail.”

Even’s newly-completed heart ached. That had been his purpose, his sole ambition, ever since he reawakened, greeted by Saïx’s unfeeling expression and his whispered promise of atonement. _Redemption._ The word hung in the weighty air between them. Mouth suddenly dry, Even licked his lips before croaking, “ _How?_ ”

“Forgiveness.” Ansem stared at the fireplace, and the crackling flames within. “If only I had opened my heart to forgiveness sooner, I would not have become so blinded by my own selfish desires. Instead, I brought pain and misery to innocent children. That is my burden.” Ansem let out a shaky sigh, and when his eyes met Even’s the scientist was alarmed to see they’d taken on the shine of unspent tears. 

“Even, for your sake if not his own, you must learn to forgive. Otherwise, you will never be freed from the sins of the past.”

* * *

Even excused himself shortly thereafter, thoughts racing and head spinning. No doubt the brandy had an effect, but to Even it felt more profound than that. It was as if his entire worldview had been turned on its head.

_Forgiveness._ Even had never, not once, even considered it. His crimes were too numerous, too severe, to warrant it. And yet, Ansem had looked past all that and found it in his heart to forgive him, _all of them_ , for their misdeeds. Despite his vast vocabulary, Even could not find the words to describe what he felt in that moment.

The shrieking sound of metal on metal jolted Even from his stupor. It was late, far too late for anyone to be training, and Even had already dismissed the noise as his imagination when it rang out again, followed this time by a muffled curse. Although distant, the scientist instantly recognized those frustrated mutterings. His curiosity won out, and Even detoured from his path.

He found Lea on the practice field, keyblade out and face a mask of intense desperation as he held the blade aloft and steady. A moment passed, then Lea grimaced, hissing through his teeth before spinning the blade around into a battle stance. Flame Liberator melted into Axel’s twin chakrams, and with a frustrated grunt Lea threw one chakram, then the second at one of the training dummies halfway across the field. Each met their mark before being consumed by fire, only to reappear in Lea’s hand, a keyblade once more. 

Even watched as Lea repeated the process again, and again, _and again_. He easily recognized the pose as the same he’d instructed Lea to take hours earlier. With sudden clarity, Even realized that Lea was attempting to recreate the experiment on his own. 

He spoke without thinking. “If you were so keen on carrying on, you could have _at least_ set up the equipment to take measurements.”

Lea shouted, taken completely off-guard. He whirled around to face Even, keyblade still held at the ready. “Don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” he yelled, face flushed like he was embarrassed. “You coulda given me a heart attack!”

A part of Even wanted to crow victoriously that he’d _at last_ given the redhead a taste of his own medicine. However, Ansem’s counsel echoed in his mind—

_for your sake if not his own, you must learn to forgive_

—and gave him pause. Even cast a critical eye over Lea and was once again struck by the similarities he observed between them. Like Even, Lea seemed weary and stressed, thinner than the scientist remembered. Despite his raggedness, he looked _younger_ than Even recalled, his expression lost and confused underneath his embarrassed shock. 

Somewhat bitterly, Even silently cursed Ansem for knowing him all-too-well. 

“I would not have expected for you to forgo sleep for the sake of the experiment. Not—” Even cleared his throat, then added, “Not after our… _disagreement_ earlier.”

Lea shrugged, but as usual he refused to meet Even’s eyes. “ _Hmph_ , you think I care what _you_ think about me? Besides, it’s like you said. The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner I’m outta here.”

“And where is that, _hmm?_ Your friends have enrolled in classes, and rumor has it that Isa has taken an active role with the Restoration Committee.” Even cocked a critical eyebrow. Despite himself, he was truly curious about Lea’s plans. Regardless of his personal opinion, Even could not deny Lea’s talents. He loathed the thought that they’d be wasted on idleness or stifled ambition. “What is it that occupies _your_ time?”

“How about, it’s none of your business?” Lea replied bitterly. 

“When has _that_ ever stopped an intrepid mind?” Even waved a hand towards Flame Liberator, which glowed softly in Lea’s slowly-relaxing grip. “Are you not the _least_ bit curious to better understand this weapon you possess? Or are you content to blindly trust some old sorcerer’s unfounded hocus pocus?”

Lea grit his teeth before looking down at his keyblade and casting it aside. “So what if I am?” he asked, petulantly. “I’m just some _useless_ wielder with a _defective_ keyblade, or didn’t you get it memorized?”

Despite his own protestations, Lea evidently _did_ care enough that Even’s castigation had cut deep. Realization dawned on Even, and for the first time since he’d woken, _human_ once more, he sensed an opportunity for atonement. For healing, even. 

“I am… sorry, for my words earlier.” The redhead’s jaw dropped as shocked green eyes rose to meet Even’s. As the young man gaped, mouth working as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words, Even was reminded of an observation he’d made the previous day. Was it possible that _no one_ had ever taught Lea how to apologize?

“I am not a patient man,” Even admitted, and despite his shock Lea still managed to snort. Even ignored him, adding instead, “I hastened the experimental process on the misguided belief that success would bring me a sense of accomplishment, and perhaps unburden my conscience. It was my impatience that led me to take my frustrations out on you, and for that, I apologize.”

Lea just stared at Even, and true to his word, it was not long before his patience snapped. “Would you say something?” he demanded. 

His words startled Lea, who frowned even as he asked, _“Why?”_

“What do you mean, _why?_ ”

Lea looked away, fists clenched by his side as he said, “I— I mean, what’s your play, huh? Is this supposed to be some sorta reverse psychology, trying to trick me into telling you that _I’m_ sorry? I’m _done_ with playing along with anyone’s mind games, got it?”

“This is no _game_ , I assure you.” Lea’s defensiveness again reminded Even of himself, and rather than allow the younger man to push Even away the scientist instead held his ground. “Your _apology_ , although I hesitate to call it such, was abysmal. However that is neither here nor there. The truth is that no matter what you said, I was unwilling to accept it. Regardless of whether you take responsibility for your actions or not, what you did continues to haunt me, and I will bear the scars for the rest of my life.”

Lea’s cheeks flushed, and he opened his mouth to interrupt, but Even cut him off. “But I have had opportunity to reflect on my obstinance, and have come to the conclusion that the degree to which you feel remorse has no bearing on whether or not I choose to forgive you.” Although his words were harsh, Even smiled softly as he remembered how it felt when he realized that Ansem had forgiven them for betraying him all those years ago. “As a good friend recently told me, forgiveness can beget healing. It is time that I let go of my grievances so that I am able to move on with my life. 

“No matter what you choose to do,” he said with finality, “that is the path I have chosen for myself. It is as simple as that.”

A peculiar feeling swelled in Even’s chest. On one hand, he felt out-of-breath and a bit shaky. And yet, on the other hand he felt _lighter_ somehow—as though he’d cast off a heavy burden. It was not the atonement he so desperately sought, but to Even it felt like he’d taken a step down the correct path, the first since he reawoke months earlier. 

For the first time in years, Even felt the smallest stirrings of _hope_. 

As Even went to leave, he was stopped by Lea. “Wait.” The blonde glanced over his shoulder at Lea, who looked thoughtful, if still a bit wary. “Look, I— _damn it._ ” Agitated, Lea raked a hand through his already-disheveled hair. “It’s all a mess, y’know? For years, all they… all _you_ told us was that we weren’t the same people we used to be. That we didn’t have hearts. That we were _nothing_. I know you didn’t know it was a lie, but—” Lea cut himself off with a grimace.

“But,” he continued, “I meant it, what I said yesterday. It wasn’t personal, what Ax… what _I_ did. At least, I don’t think it was. Maybe I’m wrong, though. I just—” Lea sighed, staring down at his own hands like they held all the answers. “I just don’t know.”

“There is much yet that remains unknown,” Even replied, as soft and cautiously as he was able. His mind rebelled at the thought, but in his heart— _his heart_ —Even knew that he was in the right, and that alone was more satisfying than any experiment he had undertaken in the past decade. “You might consider how accepting responsibility and seeking forgiveness might offer answers, if not solace. I would be glad to assist you in such an endeavor, as payment for your participation in the experiment, should you remain interested.” That said, Even nodded farewell. “Goodnight, Lea.”

“Uh, yeah. Goodnight,” Lea replied, somewhat uncertain. Then in a flash of light, his keyblade reappeared in his hand. Based on Lea’s surprised expression, Even hypothesized Lea had not consciously summoned the blade. Still, its presence seemed to calm the younger man, who added with a small grin, “See ya tomorrow.”

Even was exhausted, dehydrated, and somewhat tipsy, but somehow he felt more rejuvenated as he returned to his quarters than he’d felt when he left them that morning. In a sense, nothing had changed. His experiment was no closer to complete and Lea hadn’t given Even an honest, contrite apology. And yet, for the first time in ages Even felt like positive developments were on the horizon. Atonement, redemption, forgiveness: all of it was almost at-hand.

That night, Even slept soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Kingdom Heals Zine](https://twitter.com/khealszine) that focused on healing, comfort, and recovery. My heartfelt thanks to the entire team, including all the moderators and contributors who made this effort a successful one. <3


End file.
